Shattered
by The Fallen Sky
Summary: His world and his heart are in pieces.


Title: Shattered  
Author: The Fallen Sky  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Chlark, allusions to Chlavis  
Summary: His world and his heart are in pieces.  
Warning: There are some allusions to sex but nothing overly graphic.  
A/N: This story is set after the Season 8 episode Beast and is told from Clark's POV. It could be considered AU, but since we don't really know what happened while Chloe was off with Davis, this could still be canon. The dialogue used in the story was taken from several different episodes of the series.

Feedback is welcome. Enjoy!

* * *

_"Chloe, I'm gonna spend every second looking for you. I _will_ find a way to save you."_

He's exhausted.

He's been searching for her nonstop for almost two weeks.

He still hasn't found her, and he's starting to wonder if he ever will.

It wears on him, the constant wondering about where she is and if she's okay. He hasn't slept and has barely eaten since she left. It's a miracle he finds the time to care for the animals on the farm and to grab a quick shower and change of clothes on occasion.

He's obsessed with her, with finding her, making sure she's safe and bringing her home where she belongs...with him.

He's running on fumes, his body on autopilot, surviving off of the sun's rays, his spirit surviving on diminishing hope, and his mind focused on one thing...

Chloe.

She's all he thinks about, every second of every day. He replays memories of her in his mind, her smile, her laughter, her voice, even her tears. Every interaction they've ever had, every second he's known her, the good, the bad and the ugly, plays on a constant loop in his head. It's the only thing that's keeping him sane, but it's also slowly driving him mad, because every moment he spends without her, every second she's out there with that monster, is one more reminder of how he failed and one more time he realizes that he may never see her again, that he may have lost her forever.

He tries not to think like that, to stay positive, but it's difficult and getting more difficult with each passing day.

Even now, as he's sitting on the couch in the loft, he's struggling to think positive thoughts, to keep hope alive that this will end soon and end well. In an effort to help boost his spirits, he's holding a framed photo of the two of them, staring at it, at her, with affection and reverence. His eyes trace every line and contour of her form with particular focus on her face, specifically her smile.

She's always had the most amazing smile, so bright, like sunshine. And he loves the way her eyes shine with light and life when she's happy, like she is in the photo.

He gently traces her outline with his finger, a small smile forming on his lips as he thinks about all the times she managed to make him feel better about himself and his life just by being herself, by believing in him, by being his friend. She's the most amazing person he's ever known, and he's lucky to have her in his life. He truly doesn't know what he'd do without her.

He loves her.

He loves her in every way it's possible to love someone, and he loves her with all that he is, every fiber of his being.

It's funny, but if there's one good thing to come out of this mess, it's that he was finally able to admit to himself that he loves her. It wasn't much of a revelation, though. Somewhere, deep down, he'd known for a long time that he loved her and not just as a friend. It was just easier to pretend that he didn't have feelings for her, because he was always afraid that he'd lose her, that she'd realize she couldn't handle being with him, that she'd be better off, happier, if she was with someone else, someone normal. It was easier to love her from a distance, without her knowing, than to risk his heart, to risk everything by telling her.

_"You don't hesitate to run into a burning building or jump in front of a bullet, because nothing can penetrate that iron flesh of yours. But the one time saving someone means putting your heart on the line, the man of steel is nowhere to be found."_

She was right. He'll gladly step in front of a bullet, but he won't put his heart on the line, because bullets can't hurt him, but his heart is fragile and easily broken.

His mind wanders back to one of his favorite memories, the one time he ever truly kissed her. Dark Thursday, the Daily Planet basement. He'd just saved her from a car crashing through the wall. He knew he had to face Lex/Zod, but he didn't want to leave her. She urged him to go, and after some hesitation, he started to, only to be stopped by her calling to him...

_"Clark. I don't know if I'm ever gonna see you again."_

And then she kissed him.

It stole his breath, the intensity, the emotion in her kiss, the way she clung to him, as if it truly might be the last time she'd ever see him. Without words, she told him exactly what he meant to her, how much she loved him, and he couldn't help but kiss her back, pouring out his heart and soul, finally showing her that, despite what she believed, he loved her just as much as she loved him, needed her just as much, probably more, than she needed him.

He can still remember the look in her eyes, the pure, unadulterated, unabashed faith, trust and love reflected there. He can still remember the feel of her in his arms, her body warm and trembling, her hand gently caressing his cheek. He can still remember the lingering taste of her lips on his, sweet like ripe berries. He can still remember her scent, fresh wildflowers mixed with a hint of vanilla and something uniquely Chloe. He can still remember the sound of her breathing, labored and slightly ragged, can still remember the sound of her heart pounding in her chest and all because of one amazing kiss.

In fact, it's almost as if he can hear her heart beating now. Without thinking, he focuses more on the memory, on her, and the sound of her heart beating grows louder in his ears. His eyes slip shut, and he just listens to the sound, the constant rhythm. It's soothing and reassuring. It lets him know that she's still alive, still out there, still waiting for him.

After a time, her heartbeat speeds up, and he wonders what could be causing it. It's not a quick, dramatic jump, but more of a gradual increase, so he doubts she's scared or running for her life.

He tries focusing his hearing while also expanding the scope of it to encompass more than just her heart.

Moments later, he can hear her breathing, faint at first but becoming louder and clearer. It's more rapid than he expected, slightly labored, too. He's even more curious about what's happening to her, and his chest tightens with anticipation and concern as he again adjusts his hearing, trying to get a better idea of what's happening.

What he hears next fills him with dread and makes him sick to his stomach. He hears something he's only heard a few times in his life and never in conjunction with her. It's the fleshy sound of skin on skin, the wet suction of one body joined with another.

In an instant, his hearing refocuses and now encompasses more than just her. He can hear everything, her pants and soft moans, his grunts of exertion, their bodies gently slapping together. The sounds grow steadily louder, becoming crisper and clearer. He can hear the increase in the pace of their bodies colliding, the increased strain and effort he's exerting in his grunts, the increase in pitch of her moans as well as the increase in her heart rate and breathing.

The sounds continue to get louder with each passing second, becoming almost deafening as they rush ever closer to the precipice. His own heart is pounding in his chest, his head hurts and his stomach churns as he's all but forced to listen to one of his nightmares come true, the sounds painting a vivid picture in his mind of exactly what's happening.

Just when he thinks he's about to be overwhelmed by the noise and the trauma of it all, the sounds cease, replaced by a single, soft, breathy feminine sigh.

_"Davis."_

At that exact moment, he feels his heart shatter in his chest, and he's pulled back into himself, away from where ever Chloe and Davis are and what they were doing, by the sound of glass shattering.

His eyes remain closed as he tries to calm himself, focusing on his breathing, slow, deep breaths, his heart gradually slowing as he pushes the sounds and images out of his mind.

He's not sure if minutes or hours have passed by the time he's regained some semblance of control and composure, but he's certain he'll never fully recover from what he's just experienced. In fact, he can feel himself shaking, particularly his hands. And that's when he realizes that he's no longer holding the picture.

Opening his eyes, he blinks a couple of times, refocusing his senses, before looking down at his empty hands. His eyes slowly drift down toward the floor where they land on the picture.

The glass in the frame is cracked. One long fissure runs from the top of the picture to the bottom, directly between himself and Chloe, almost like it's separating them, like it's showing a crack in their relationship. His eyes focus on the image of Chloe, marred by dozens of tiny cracks in the glass, her face smiling back at him filled him with hope and happiness mere minutes ago, but now it mocks him, filling him with dread and disgust.

_"Admit it, Chloe. You have feelings for Davis. That's why you're protecting him."_

_"Clark, I'm protecting_ you_."_

Protecting _me?_ He thinks with no small measure of bitterness. _By having sex with Davis?_

Anger begins to rise in his chest, his eyes growing hot, his jaw and fists clenching. He really wants to hit something, to hit Davis, to scream at the top of his lungs, anything to relieve the hurt and rage and betrayal he feels right now, but he restrains himself. After all, what good would it do?

She's gone.

She made her choice, and it wasn't him.

He's lost her, and he doubts he'll ever get her back.

A horrifying thought occurs to him, then.

What if she doesn't want to come back? What if she doesn't want to be saved? What if she's happy with Davis?

His initial reaction to that line of thinking is to dismiss it as absurd, because there's no way she'd want to spend the rest of her life on the run with a monster. There's no way she could ever be happy loving a monster.

His heart is telling him that everything she told him the last time they spoke is true.

_"Clark, I'm protecting _you_."_

_"I must've thrown away a million green rocks, but I have never really saved you. Now I can."_

Maybe she really _is_ trying to save him. Maybe everything she's done and is doing is because she loves him more than her own happiness, more than her own future, more than her own life.

However, his head is telling him to look at the evidence, to see what's right in front of him and to remember that actions speak louder than words.

She lied to him about Davis, hid him, protected him, ran away with him. He knows how Davis feels about Chloe, and based on what he's seen and now just heard, maybe she shares those feelings and has decided to return them. If she didn't love Davis, how could she do all that she's done? How could she have sex with him knowing what he is and what he's capable of?

Trying to wrap his head around it is giving him a headache.

Does she love him, or does she love Davis?

Does it even matter?

At that thought, the anger and hurt drain from him leaving him feeling defeated, confused, sad and extremely tired.

As much as he wants to believe that she could never love Davis, that she loves _him_, Clark, and that's why she's done what she's done, he can't escape the reality that Davis is a monster that needs to be stopped. What he feels or she feels or Davis feels doesn't change the fact that Davis is dangerous, and it's only a matter of time before Doomsday is unleashed, and it's his responsibility to make sure that doesn't happen. Regardless of what she's said, done or feels, she's a human being, his friend, and he's going to save her.

Looking down at the photo covered in broken glass, he's reminded of the girl he met nearly a decade ago, the big city girl with big dreams who'd never seen a farm before, the girl with the pixy haircut and eclectic style, the girl with a sharp, inquisitive mind whose search for the truth sometimes overrode her better judgment, the girl with bright eyes, soft lips and a beaming smile, the girl who gave him his first kiss, the girl who loved him from the day they met, the girl who believed in him long before he believed in himself, long before she even knew what he is or what he's capable of, the girl that loved him beyond measure and reason, even when loving him caused her nothing but pain.

He may be confused about who Chloe is now, but he knows who she was, and he loved that girl, would do anything for that girl.

Closing his eyes, he takes a shaky breath as he tries to reconcile his memories of the girl he knew and loved with the knowledge of who she's with and what she's doing with him.

He still loves her. Even with his heart in pieces and his head spinning, he loves her more than his own life. And it's because of his love for her that he's going to swallow his pride, swallow his anger, swallow his hurt and do whatever he has to do to find her, destroy Doomsday and save the world.

_"Everything I've ever done, right or wrong, I did for you."_


End file.
